


A Change of Heart

by alovelylight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bickering, Conversations, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alovelylight/pseuds/alovelylight
Summary: “I’m impressed by you, just so we’re clear.” He had such sincere eyes; deep brown with flecks of gold – Percy thought such loveliness was unfair. “You’re tenacious, and hard-working, and you care so bloody much. Even if many of our peers misinterpret it – but I don’t.”(Percy and Oliver have an unexpected conversation during Hogsmeade weekend)





	A Change of Heart

 

The black coffee scalded the tip of Percy’s tongue, but he promptly ignored it. After all, he didn’t choose to come to this particular café for the products as much as for the atmosphere and below-the-radar air it offered. For all their critical importance, Head Boy duties also left him wondering the point of it all as he unlocked the legs of a group of second-years on the end of a Leg-Locker Curse. He needed a break.

“Weasley! Oi – _Percy!_ ” Stifling a groan, he looked up to see the broad, smirking face of Oliver Wood on the other side of the window.

The Quidditch Captain apparently did not need Percy’s invitation, as he was already shouldering his burly form through the door. He ordered a tall glass of milk at the counter and made his way to Percy’s table. Percy noticed that his usually short and boyish hair had gotten longer, making the brown strands curl slightly at the ends. It looked rather nice.

“What do you need, Wood?” he sighed, arching an eyebrow.

“Chipper as ever, I see.”

“Answer my question.”

“I’m dedicating my Hogsmeade visit to making your time miserable,” he said with a roll of the eyes, plopping himself down in front of Percy. “ _Obviously_ , Weasley.”

“You’re doing superb so far, then.”

“My god.”

“What?”

“Did you – did you – just pay me a compliment?”

“Seems so,” Percy hid a smile behind his hand. “Although you certainly aren’t lacking in your supply of compliments.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Come on, Wood, you’re not so terribly dumb–”

“–you’re very generous with the praises today, aren’t you?”

“–you know you’re practically the bane of Gryffindor glory in Quidditch matches.”

Oliver scoffed, as if such a notion was ridiculous. “Truth be told, I don’t like compliments much.”

“No?” he asked, surprised.

“No. I much prefer criticism – adds fuel to the fire of my motivation, so to speak.”

“I ought to compliment you more, then,” Percy said wryly. “If it’ll make you stop polluting the dorm with your sports-related angst well into the night.”

“I would say the same thing to you, Weasley. But I don’t think I’ll need to compliment you anymore than all our professors.” He nodded in a wizened manner. “There’s a limit to how big someone’s head can get, you know.”

Percy considered getting up and just leaving, but a part of his stupid Gryffindor pride made him stay put. “Right, because _God forbid_ I work hard on my own merits and feel proud of the well-earned results, yeah?”

Oliver, to his credit, reddened. “Oh, Percy, that’s not how I intended it to sound like.”

“I don’t care, everyone knows it’s the effects that matter.”

“I’m impressed by you, just so we’re clear.” He had such sincere eyes; deep brown with flecks of gold – Percy thought such loveliness was unfair. “You’re tenacious, and hard-working, and you care so bloody much. Even if many of our peers misinterpret it – but I don’t.”

“Our peers misinterpret a lot of things about me,” he admitted with a humorless chuckle, “but at the end of the day I’m still Head Boy. And I’ll still do my job efficiently.”

Oliver was smiling; he had dimples that made him look younger. Percy wondered at what he was thinking. For such a supposedly uncomplicated person – Quidditch maniac, obsessive planner, competitive soul – Oliver Wood can be so overwhelmingly enigmatic. He was a mystery Percy hadn’t the time to solve, despite what his base desires dare say, and yet here they are.

“There’s one thing I like to be complimented on, though,” Oliver suddenly declared, relaxing back into his chair.

“Your _positively_ delightful conversation?”

“Good one, Perce,” he winked. “But I meant my solid muscle.”

“Ah. I hardly noticed.”

“Your blush says differently.”

“I was thinking of something else far more appealing.”

“And what would that be?”

“Me, standing victorious over your battered body.”

“Kinky,” Oliver twitched his eyebrows.

Percy groaned. “Don’t make me throw my coffee at you.”

“So where’s that Ravenclaw girlfriend of yours anyway?” he asked Percy. “Her and you were locked at the hip, right?”

“First of all, it’s _she_ and you, so watch your double subject agreement. Second, I would say it’s not any of your business, but seeing as there’s not much to tell…let's just say we separated on amicable terms.” This was more or less true, although Percy did spend an embarrassing amount of time missing her shampoo scent, her delicate hands, her love of mugs and bookmarks. But like he was _ever_ going to tell Oliver that.

“Oh. I’m sorry. For the grammar and the bird.” His nonchalant tone betrayed the sentiment, but Percy let it pass. “Is that why you’ve been hoarding chocolate from the kitchen?”

“I do not hoard,” Percy sniffed. “I have a sweet tooth.”

“Yeah, I know. Who do you think gave you maple leaf chocolates on Valentine’s?”

“That was you?” Percy wished Oliver didn’t say that: his heart now felt like a snitch, whirling up to his throat. “Why on Earth would you even?”

The other boy nodded, a little smile playing on his lips. “It started as a little prank in fourth year, then I saw how eagerly you lapped them up, so I just…kept going.”

“Wood, don’t you know what a prank is?”

“I didn’t want to follow your brothers’ life-threatening idea of a prank,” he said in a defensive tone, not quite meeting Percy’s eyes. “See it as a way of making up to you for our fighting for the rest of the year.”

“We don’t _fight_.”

“Sure we do. Remember when you called me a ‘ceaseless thundercloud of neurosis and misplaced priorities’?” He grinned. “And then I said you were an ‘outdated academic drone in the body of a young curmudgeon’?”

“I admit,” Percy smilingly ceded after their laughter died down, “I’ve been a bit harsh with my words.”

“Yeah, I _guess_ you could say that,” Oliver snorted. “Well, so was I – my teammates have always joked about my intensity. But I can tell that they sometimes think I’m over-the-top.”

“For what it's worth, I've always admired your dedication, and so do many others. My siblings just think that my blood runs in rules and power.”

“Well, doesn’t it?” Oliver’s teasing smile told him he wasn’t serious, not really.

“It should be obvious, but they sometimes forget that I’m a flesh-and-bones person, and a concerned brother, not some pompous git hell-bent on showing my superiority. Although,” he admitted, “I do have accomplishments I’m rightfully proud of.”

“And you should be. I’ve always been partial to your ambitiousness, pomposity be damned.”

“Oh.” They looked at each other. “I guess you’re not so hopeless after all, Wood.”

“Now you’re just saying that for the Valentine chocolates.”

“Well, if there must be benefits to this relationship…” he glanced down at his watch. “I should be heading off to the castle soon. I’ve got a third-year to tutor.”

“In the weekend?”

“No rest for the wicked, of course,” he rolled his eyes. “As you surely know.”

“Right, because we both lead such debauched lifestyles.” The Captain looked like he was about to say something, but then quickly closed his mouth. “Bye, Percy. Try not to make that third-year cry.”

“Bye, Oliver,” his lips twitched into an unfamiliar grin. “Woe betide the next person you drag into conversation, I guess.”

 


End file.
